


Low-Five

by kinkitsecretkinkitsafe



Series: Counterpoint [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Math Kink, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 00:51:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1246531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinkitsecretkinkitsafe/pseuds/kinkitsecretkinkitsafe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermann Gottlieb is a numbers man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Low-Five

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to round out [High-Five for Hatesex](http://archiveofourown.org/series/75628), but then there was a complete tonal change and now it doesn't fit. This is part of that universe but a couple of months after. Probably.

It's late and Hermann's alone in the lab. Newt left a couple of hours ago and his side of the room is dark. Hermann flicks off some of the switches on his own side until all that's left lit in the room are the towering chalkboards covered in the day's work. Removing his jacket, he folds it and sets it on the middle of his desk before unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves. He pulls open the top draw to take the tube of lotion and drags his chair into the center of the room, lowering himself into it to stare up at the boards with a sigh.

35 years and this is what he's got--he's no closer to discerning the location of the breach and he feels he will never be good enough to live up to the numbers' perfection. He can manipulate them and tweak them and push them this way and that, but it's only when he lets them be and lets them work through him that he can even come close to experiencing their perfect truth. 

He's too tense, lately, too stressed. He wants to find an answer but he wants it to be a specific one and it never works when he tries to force it. He scrubs a hand down his face and toys with the lid of the lotion with his thumb. 

The answers are there. He can find them. He just needs to relax and let them come to him.

He's starting to unzip when he hears the door clang open and jumps, twisting in his chair with guilt on his face and denials falling from his lips. "This isn't what it looks like. I was just-"

"Relax, Hermann. It's just me," Newt says as he pushes the door closed behind him and walks into the light. "It's _exactly_ what it looks like. I know _all_ about your number fetish." 

"It's not a _fetish_." Hermann glares up at Newt as he stands beside him, looking at the board. "It's... Forget it. You wouldn't understand."

"I don't even understand a 3rd of what's up there." Newt shrugs and doesn't look at him. "But I know what it does to you, so... put the lotion away." Newt stands in front of Hermann and lowers himself to his knees, pushing Hermann's hands out of the way and finishing the job of pulling his dick out of his trousers.

"What are you doing?" Hermann asks in confusion, stopping his movement with a hand on his shoulder.

Newt rolls his eyes and leans forward until Hermann relents and lets him move. "Look at your numbers, old man," Newt says and there's an understanding light in his eyes as he leans forward and takes Hermann's soft dick into his mouth.

Hermann inhales deeply as Newt's soft suckling brings him to full hardness. He relaxes into the chair with the exhale, hand curling into the hair at the nape of Newt's neck as he looks up and lets the numbers take him.

They're gorgeous, even in his imperfect workings of them. He can see the threads and the way things might go and can tell that once he understands--once he gets it all _right_ \--they'll be even more stunning and elegant. 

Newt's mouth is sucking him in, drawing him deeper, and he never thought he'd be able to have this--human connection and the breathtaking eloquence of the language of the universe--never thought there would be anyone to indulge him in this. As he stares up he can see the parts of the board that he understands and they glimmer and shine with potential and the parts that don't yet make sense aren't failures but mysteries waiting to be unraveled. And he wants to know, he wants to understand--he wants to strip the universe bare and see all the underlying structures and equations that make up all of existence, naked and beautiful as the second it was born and growing exponentially more so as the days go on. He wants to be a part of that.

He feels Newt slide his hands up to Hermann's hips and hold on, pulling himself further down Hermann's dick and swallowing and Hermann has to squeeze his eyes shut against the sensation. He forces them open to stare at the chalkboards again and he's not concentrating well--he never concentrates well when he does this and that's exactly the point--but he can feel the answers begin to coalesce. The dark edges are fading away from the sections he doesn't understand and he's making connections between things he previously thought unrelated and he hopes he remembers all of this when he comes back to himself--it's never this intense when he's alone. His thoughts are rushing through him at hyperspeed and Newt is sucking hard and fast and everything is building in his mind and in his body and he feels connected and assured and like his work has meaning and purpose and he _can_ succeed.

"Geiszler. Newton. _Newton_." Hermann's hand tightens on Newt's neck and he's very close. Newt gives him a thumbs up and pushes farther down Hermann's dick, past the gag reflex and swallows. 

Hermann gives one last, desperate look to the chalk board and closes his eyes, knowing that when he returns to his work he'll be able to caress and massage the answers out of the equations. He won't be tense and frustrated and blind to the truth. He slides his hand up into the back of Newt's hair, fingers curling in tightly and holding him in place as Newt moans around him. He thrusts up into Newt's mouth a few times and lets himself go, cumming down Newt's throat with a satisfied moan.

Newt sucks him through the aftershocks and lets him slip from his lips with a contented hum. 

Hermann feels lazy and relaxed and like whatever was holding him back is no longer an issue. His body is lighter and his muscles twitch as Newt's hands slide down his thighs and rub him comfortingly.

When he gets his breath back and feels able to handle reality once more, he opens his eyes and looks down to see Newt looking up at him with a small indecipherable smile.

Newt says a quiet "Happy birthday, Hermann," and Hermann's eyes widen. 

"How did you know?" He asks, certain that he'd never mentioned it.

"I know everything," Newt says, tapping his nose before pushing himself to his feet. He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to his cheek and murmurs in his ear. "I don't hate your clothes, old man. That's your present. Don't _ever_ expect me to admit it again." Newt straightens and turns to leave, hand trailing down Hermann's arm and Hermann reaches out to grab it before he's out of range. He hooks his fingers into Newt's and Newt's curl back. He hadn't actually expected that.

"Newton. _Newt_... Thank you." Hermann says sincerely and Newt gives him a half smile.

"Have a good night, yeah?" He says and then he's squeezing Hermann's fingers and walking away. 

Hermann doesn't look away until the door clangs closed. 

He doesn't think he'll ever understand what this thing is between them, but he's fairly sure that, tonight, something changed. Whatever it is, it's working for them, and maybe they'll find their way to making it work more... steadily. 

Even if they don't, what they have is enough.


End file.
